


eyes reflecting fire

by Rosyredlipstick



Series: fireworks [6]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Connor POV, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Pranking, also a lot of cursing, companion fic, lots of brotps, puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 08:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11158533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosyredlipstick/pseuds/Rosyredlipstick
Summary: It's Connor's sixth year at camp and everything is just about the same. The big seven are still as big and noteworthy as usual, Travis, although dating Katie now, is still pulling weekly pranks on the Demeter cabin, usually involving shaving cream, water balloons, and semi permanent hair dye. Code Red Mountain Dew still fills his cup in the Mess Hall when he sits down, and the few hidden nooks in the camp store are still overflowing and hidden with their contraband goods. The floorboards still squeak and the door still slams from the wind on a nice day, and the new Hermes kids are just as wide-eyed and mischievous as ever.Everything is exactly the same.And Mitchell is still beautiful.-The Connor POV of Hands Cupping Sparklers that's been a long time coming.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [hands cupping sparklers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6699898) by [Rosyredlipstick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosyredlipstick/pseuds/Rosyredlipstick). 



It's Connor's sixth year at camp and everything is just about the same. The big seven are still as big and noteworthy as usual, Travis, although dating Katie now, is still pulling weekly pranks on the Demeter cabin, usually involving shaving cream, water balloons, and semi permanent hair dye. Code Red Mountain Dew still fills his cup in the Mess Hall when he sits down, and the few hidden nooks in the camp store are still overflowing and hidden with their contraband goods. The floorboards still squeak and the door still slams from the wind on a nice day, and the new Hermes kids are just as wide-eyed and mischievous as ever.

Everything is exactly the same.

And Mitchell is still beautiful.

* * *

He was getting better at the staring. 

Or...so he thought.

Travis flicked a spoon full of dry cereal at him. "You've got to do something about _this_ young brother."

Connor snapped back to attention, "What?"

Travis waved his spoon around, gesturing towards himself and his bowl of cereal. Why was he even eating cereal anyways? It was five in the afternoon, and spaghetti night. Speaking of that, where did he even get the cereal? They had been out since the Romans bought out their supplies on their last visit.

Apparently, they were fans of Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch.

Travis continued on despite Connor's train of thought, "Listen. I know I'm like, older and wiser and cooler than you in _every_ way but this is getting ridiculous."

Connor frowned, hunching over his food a bit. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The statement might have worked better if it hadn't been directly followed by ringing laughter from the Aphrodite table, causing the younger brother’s attention to immediately snap back to the other table. His eyes were wide, lingering on one particular pale boy, eyeing the long line of his neck as he laughed.

Travis only shook his head, a bit in shame. "I kind of understand the Aphrodite kid thing. They're super hot and they literally project attractiveness and love and whatever. I get it. But you've either got to stop staring or make a damn move." He took a slow slurp of his milk, thinking. "After all." He said swallowing, "Aphrodite kids usually aren't alone long."

At this, Connor finally tore his gaze way. He groaned, his head falling into his folded arms in front of him. "I didn't mean to!" He defended himself, "And...and he's not like the others. And it's not just that he's attractive! I mean, he's probably the nicest, most caring, secretly hilarious person in his cabin, if not the camp. Gods. He’s so _sarcastic._ "

"So...the fact he's hot like burning means nothing to you?" Travis gave him a doubtful look.

"I mean, it doesn't mean more than the fact he's amazing and funny and caring and wonderful." Connor's eyes fell back to the other boy, who was now helping his younger sister cut apart her food, because of course.

Travis stared at his younger brother for a long while but before shaking his head in sympathy. "Dude. Bro.  I’m so sorry." He stifled a laugh at Connor's momentarily confused expression. "But you're so far gone you're going to need a map to get back."

Connor groaned and fell back onto the table because Travis was a lot of things, but dishonest unfortunately wasn't one of them.

"You know what we should do?" Travis gave him a wide, wicked smile. "I think the situation calls for a pranking war."

Connor gave him an unsure look. “Do you really think that’ll work? On him?”

"It'll at least get you on his map." Travis pointed out helpfully, "It worked for Katie and I!"

Travis, seeing his brother’s hesitation, perched his lips. His glanced at Connor’s plate in front of him, and an idea popped into his head. “Go big or go home, little brother.” He nodded towards the front of the table, waiting until Connor followed his gaze before taking another bite of his own food.

“You need to do it.” Travis urged him through a mouthful of food. Hell, Hermes kids weren’t known for their manners, and, if Travis had anything to say about it, they never would be.

Connor, staring at the huge plate of sauce covered meatballs, slowly picked one up and leveled it in his hand. "It's not too heavy." He observed.

"Won't even bruise him." Travis added on helpfully.

Connor stared at his hand for another moment before making a face like _eh, why not._ “Here goes nothing.”

His siblings gasped in surprise as the meatball left his hand, making surprising good height for being, well, a meatball. Mitchell jolted back in surprise as it hit him, leaving a trail of sauce in its wake, staining his pale skin and shirt. Almost immediately, he cut up a glare to the Hermes table, an scowl covering his face.

Fuck. Even covered in sauce, he was so hot Connor wanted to die. Fuck.

Lydia, across from Travis, snorted at the death glare several of the Aphrodite kids shot his way, as he poorly attempted a look of innocence. To his disappointment, the other cabin stood and began making their way out of the Mess Hall. He made a pathetic noise of sadness.

“Pranking? Really?” Lydia took a rough bite of her garlic bread, shaking her head. She flipped her braids over her shoulder and gave him a dry look. “Why don’t you, I know, just ask him out?”

“Impossible.” Connor answered without pause. “I must first court him.”

“This isn’t exactly courting him.” She pointed out.

“It’s all apart of my plan.” He insisted, despite his complete lack of plan. Travis gave him a look but thankfully didn’t call him out.

Travis let that go, switching to a different topic. Connor pulled his eyes away from the other table.

“We testing that new shipment tonight?”

Connor was already shaking his head, “Plans.”

Lydia gave him a doubtful look. “You? Having plans?”

Connor hid a small smile. “I’ve got a meeting.”

His siblings gave him odd looks but, for once in their lives, didn't pry. That probably meant they already knew everything but hey, Connor'll take it at this point. 

* * *

“What do you have for me?” The girl asked, her voice and face blank as she sat on her bunk, her arms crossed. Around the cabin the rest of the cabin mates were scattered around, posed really, as they waited for what Connor had to say.

He slung the backpack off his shoulder and began laying out his peace offerings. “Where is he now?” Connor shot a look over his shoulder. “When is he gonna be back?”

Scarlett, perched on her wooden top bunk like it was a throne fit for royalty, examined her nails, unimpressed. “Sabrina wasn’t _feeling good.”_ She put pressure on the last of her two words, making the meaning clear. “Mitchell took her to in the infirmary. They should be there for at least another hour.”

He nodded, feeling a bit more relieved, and gestured to his time’s offering. It wasn’t nothing - the newest _Naked_ eyeshadow palette, some peach smelling _Too Faced_ blush and bronze set, a few liquid lipsticks Riley had assured him would impress the other cabin, and, strangely requested, a few handfuls of cinnamon candy sticks.

Drew - one of the oldest Aphrodite girls who still slightly scared Connor, stared down at the bounty with a critical eye. After a long moment, she nodded, and Connor had to stifle the relieved breath that wanted to emerge.

“What do you want to know?” Scarlett asked, as she always did.

“Everything.” Connor answered, like he always did.

And, like always, an eyeroll went through the cabin.

“You know,” Sebastian - a frequent visitor of the Hermes cabin after he got, uh, _close_ to a few of Connor’s siblings. He continued, “You could just talk to him. He’s like, a nerd. And super gay. He’d totally jump your bones if you’d, I don’t know, show interest?”

“This is all apart of my plan.” Connor said, like he actually had a plan. Fuck. He had to work on that. “Anyways - the info?”

Now that his offering was accepted, and Drew picked it up from the floor to spread on their vanity, the Aphrodite kids fell into more casual stances.

Asher grinned up at him from over his comic book. “His favorite candy bars are Cookie’s and Cream _Hershey’s_ bars.”

Connor nodded, scrawling down the information in the notebook he’d brought with him, much to the eyerolls of all the other room occupants.

“Despite how _horrible_ it is for you -” Scarlett shook her head, “He loves strawberry milk. Like, he could drink it by the carton if he let him.” She shuttered, “The fat content _alone.”_

He gave her a quick nod, smiling a bit at how incredibly charmed he was by the subject of these facts.

“He likes to be outside.” Micah, the quietest of the bunch, spoke up. “And he likes to practice his archery in the afternoon. After dinner, usually.”

The all nodded in agreement, adding a few more of their own facts on as Connor scrawled down as much as he could.  

They all went quiet as Connor filled up the last of the page, an act that usually signaled his leave. After all, they couldn’t risk being caught by the man of the hour.

Connor packed up his few things as the other campers went back to talking among themselves, apparently debating different couple matches on some sugar TV show.

He paused, the bottle in his pocket weighing down as he stood. He had almost forgotten that, how Travis had pressed it into his hands with a sly grin. Connor was a pro at keeping composure, he he drew on that skill for a moment. “Could I use your guy’s bathroom for a moment?” He drew on a false grimace. “The Hermes one is always busy, and I think Alec blew up the sink this morning.”

Sophia gestured to their empty bathroom, no one paying him much attention. Good.

He did his business quickly - the bathroom and shower area looking no different. It wasn’t particularly hard to find Mitchell’s personal brand of shampoo - he always made sure the camp store had a few bottles in supply.

He waved at the cabin in whole as he left the cabin, a satisfied grin on face.

Travis would be proud, and Mitchell would be sure to notice him now. This, the whole plan, was a great idea.

* * *

Fuck.

This was a horrible fucking idea.

This was the worst absolute idea they’d ever had. _Including_ the time they almost set Mr.D’s Hawaiian shirt collection on fire.

And this was _worst._

“Wow.” Travis’s voice was neutral, clear from the laughter he was oh-so-obviously keeping back. “I think it’s safe to say we _severely_ underestimated how well Mitchell could pull off a bit of hair dye.”

“He looks hot as hell.” Phoebe clicked her tongue, holding up her fork in mock salute. “If he was into girls, I would be climbing _that_ like a tree during a flood.”

Connor kept his face firmly planted into the wood of the picnic table. “I have made a horrible mistake.”

Phoebe took a noisy bite of her food, her gaze still across the room. “Damn. If the entire camp didn’t already know you had the hots for him, he’d be fighting off suitors right now.”

Cecil at his other side nodded sympathetically, his hand coming up to pat Connor’s back with a bit too much force. “Listen, dude, I don’t know what you did to Aphrodite but _bro._ You better go sacrifice some designer wear in her name cause you need some _help.”_

“Gods help me.” He muttered into the wood, finally picking up his head from where it had dropped the instant the tenth cabin had walked in.

Mitchell had his back to him, but the burst of bright color was obvious and noticeable from even across the room. Bright, _bright_ blue, blue in way Connor had never really taken the time to admire the color before. He had slight smears of dye, Connor as noticing, across the back of his neck, and probably his shoulders too. It was strong stuff - strong enough to start tinting hair the instant it left the bottle so to get a nice color from just a slight, quick wash.

His siblings were clearly teasing him about it, running their hands through it, messing it up when they could reach his dunking head. He dipped his head, a flush hitting even the back of his neck, and Connor was _so, so_ gone.

“He’s ridiculous.”

“I stopped eating with him and Travis for this exact reason. All he does is stare at cabin ten, it’s so creepy.”

“I think it’s adorable.”

“You were also a _Twilight_ fan, so.”

“At least I didn’t listen to _Blood on the Dancefloor.”_

Connor finally ripped his gaze away to glare at his two younger sisters. “Riley, Ayna. Stop arguing.”

They went quiet, probably shooting him judgmental looks as he firmly kept his eyes on his breakfast. Sausage and french toast. Nice.

Anya frowned, picking at her eggs. Her eyes lit up after a quick moment, her gaze over Connor’s shoulder. “Oh wow, are those new jeans on Mitchell? They’re so _tight.”_

Connor whipped around so fast, the toast previously held in his hand went flying with the sudden movement. Alec made a noise of victory as it landed on his plate, demolishing it, as well as the rest of his plate, in seconds.

Connor’s cheeks burned a rare color as he realized that A. Mitchell wasn’t even wearing jeans, he should have known that, _he had just been staring at Mitchell,_ B. Mitchell wasn’t even standing or in any point of view to show off said pants, and C. That now his entire table was laughing loudly at the reaction time, and lack of therefore.

Gods. He couldn't wait to lament about the unfairness of his life later to Katie. She'd make fun of him and probably ignore him but she'd _totally_ get it. 

Travis sympathetically stole a bite of his sausage which, knowing him, was probably supposed to be an act of comfort in the face of Connor’s embarrassment.

Somehow, Connor survived the meal.

A few days later - spend mostly gazing at the other boy from afar, cursing his own foolishness of hair dye - Connor woke up to a loud shriek.

He didn’t stumble out of bed or anything of the likes - random screaming was pretty commonplace in the Hermes cabin most of the time. It was the _silence_ you had to watch out for, he had learned.

But the screaming - along with high laughter and giggles joining the sound - continued.

He cracked open an eyelid, wondering if Travis would handle it.

There was a thump behind him. He sighed.

He threw the blankets off, wiping at his crusty eyes and messy curls, before taking in the scene.

No fire. Yet. Good.

No smoke. Good.

No mysterious goo leaking from the floorboards. Again. Yet. Still good.

But...screaming. Not good.

He grabbed onto his little sister’s shoulder as she rushed past, intending to question her on the early morning chaos, when he paused.

Anya’s face was painted up in thick eyeliner and bright lips, surprising considering the early hour and her mess of bedhead. Before Connor could comment, she pointed to the wall, grinning.

Connor turned, half exhausted, mostly confused, and faced the....mirror?

Oh.

That....that would explain it.

“Make...up?” He questioned. Had one of their siblings done it in their sleep? Not bad, a bit unoriginal, but not the worst prank in the world. 

Travis dropped down from his top bunk, apparently drawn over by the mess. His face was done up in similar fashion. As was, he was noticing, all of his other siblings. Not one of them them then. That would explain the excited screaming. 

Travis peeked over Connor's shoulder in the mirror. “Make up?”

Lydia was grinning with gleeful conviction. “A sticking make up spell. We’ve been _pranked.”_  

A gasp went through the cabin at her words, and Connor vaguely recognized that everyone had been listening in.

“By who?” Travis grinned, over excited at the idea. Gods. This was almost was bad as when the Demeter cabin retaliated the first time when he was crushing on Katie. Almost. 

Connor's seen some _shit._

“Who else would pull a make up prank?” Chris spoke up, grinning. It was always nice to see a smile on him. “The Aphrodite cabin got us _good.”_

The realization that came with that sentence hit him harder then an Ares kid.

Aphrodite. They had...that meant...

“He pranked us back.” He breathed out, his voice was a bit numb. He leaned into the mirror, tracing his fingernail along the thick black line tracing his eyelid. It didn’t smear.

Travis was staring into the mirror, delight evident across his face. His lips were bright red and impossibly glossy, and Connor’s were to match. “He _pranked_ us back!”

Travis gave Connor a gleeful look. “You know you have to marry him now, right? Like, we can’t let this go. Gods, if you don’t _I will._ Katie would totally understand, we’d make it work.”

Cecil was laughing maniacally at his own reflection, “Prank war.” He was repeating, “We’re having a _prank war.”_

Alec was near vibrating in excitement, his own face done up in lime green eyeshadow and purple lipstick. He pulled it off strangely well.

Anya was peeking into the mirror around Cecil, looking pleased. “Do you think we can make this permanent?” She whistled, “They even got my foundation color perfect. I look _great.”_

Chris almost seemed slightly impressed with the work, tilting up his chin to examine further. “It’s bended almost perfectly.” His voice was laced with approval.

Lydia giggled suddenly, “Oh gods, Wade is gonna _freak.”_

“His fragile masculinity won’t be able to take this shake up.” Anya noted. “This was probably mostly directly at him. And Travis and Connor, of course.”

Connor froze, “You...you think so?”

Phoebe gave him a dull look. “Completely. This is _definitely_ somewhat directed at you.”

Connor beamed, his face breaking into a grin. “He _noticed_ me!”

The groans that went through the cabin at that weren’t able to drown out his loud, pitched noise of excitement. Katie was gonna  _freak._

* * *

Returning to his roots was one of his favorite things about being a Hermes kid.

Sure, the constant jokes were entertaining, and it wasn’t half-bad the athletic abilities that came with it, and lock-picking came to him as easy as breathing most days. It wasn’t a half bad deal, the cards he was dealt.

But this - truly his roots, from when he and Travis were toddlers in a crappy apartment with only each other as companions - this was what brought him home.

“This is gonna be amazing.”

Travis nodded in approval, squinted at the test tube. “It’s what those Hephaestus kids deserve after what they pulled last week. Did they think we would forget?”

They shared a small snort at that, shaking their heads.

“Put the Hephaestus kids down for a prank next week.” Travis told him, nodding to his notebook. He had the schedule printed out neatly - they were always careful not to pull too much in one week as not to overwhelm the rest of the camp, despite their tendency towards chaos. Because then the Apollo kids would get pissed if their infirmary was overcrowded, which would caused the Hades cabin to get pissed, which would cause the Zeus cabin to get pissed, which would cause the Aphrodite cabin to get pissed, which would cause the Ares cabin to get pissed, which would cause the Hermes cabin getting creamed in the next Capture the Flag.

Camp politics. What could you do.

Cecil called from the front letting them know they had business. Probably some Athena kids looking for a mid-day energy drink fix, they were some of the only ones who came directly to the cabin to do business. Out of desperation and lack of patience to wait in line at the camp store mostly, but they always kept a few cases of Monster on hand for them anyways.

Travis carefully set the tub of pale blue powder, eyeing it carefully. Magic from the Hecate cabin was always delightfully unpredictable, but it was better to save those surprises for the actual prank rather than in testing. They had found that out in the worst, and best, way.

Connor scrawled down some notes as he stood, gesturing for Riley to come closer and keep an eye on it. He and Travis usually handed the in-cabin deals when they could, leaving the rest of their siblings to practice their hand at testing. He handed the notebook over to Felix, who gave him a pleased grin in return, and he followed his brother out into the main area of the cabin.

He froze for a second as Travis yelled out a greeting, his heart skipping a beat or two, before pushing himself forward and slapping a casual look on his face.

“Chapstick.” Mitchell, light of Connor’s life and frequentor of his daydreams, requested with stiff lips. Connor had to stifle down a wince, and most of his overly odd concern.

“Did we just sell you like, three tubes?” His brother questioned, which um, who cares - whatever godly force was keeping Mitchell visiting their cabin on a weekly basis deserves not to be questioned, maybe worshiped instead honestly. If it kept the other boy in his life, Connor would gladly charm the chapstick tubes to disappear _himself_ despite his complete lack of any form of magic.

He forced himself to glance away from Mitchell reddened, slightly puffy, lips in order to pull the contraband supplies out. He found the chapstick fairly quickly, Mitchell _was_ in there a lot to buy it of recent, and handed over the small tube, being careful to keep his hands steady.

He could see Travis’s delighted grin on his face already, probably all cocky and gleeful as he got whenever he took joy in Connor’s suffering.

And Connor - helpless - had to sit there, only a few horrible feet away, as Mitchell peeled back the wrapper and cap and applied a thick layer of the lip balm, a look of relief and a grin of satisfaction passing over his fine - and Connor meant _fine_ \- features.

Connor clenched his hands on the edges of the suitcase, forcing his gaze down and his hands to shuffle through the contents as a distraction.

“I _still_ don’t know how you guys manage to get the holiday flavors.” A pleased, happy note of emotion flickered across his face, and holy sweet jesus, Mitchell was going to be the _end_ of him.

Rest in Peace Connor Wendall Stoll. It was cool while it lasted, and he went out the way he always wanted: in the face of a cute boy.

Travis would definitely cry at his funeral, and Katie always insisted she looked great in black. He bet Mitchell would even show up, the kind soul he was, and maybe he’d even say a few words.

_“I didn’t know a lot about Connor but hey, at least he always had my chapstick. So sorry my radiant and beautiful face knocked his heart right into his ass and he’s dead, it’s totally tragic.”_

Okay, so maybe not but _still._

Mitchell was smiling at him again, slightly, and if anything, that always snapped Connor back to attention.

“Candy Cane is my favorite but I can _never_ find it during the school year.”

Connor forced his gaze down so he wouldn’t start vacantly staring at the other boy. “Just lucky, I guess.” He choked out, his hands still busing themselves as they organized the suitcase.

Yeah, _lucky._ Lucky to bribe their way into possession of several boxes of holiday flavored lip balms because of the sole fact that Asher had off-handed mentioned that Mitchell had used up the last of his only tube, maybe.

At least Travis reminded him once in awhile how pathetic he was. It kept him humble.

Mitchell turned to leave, a thank you on his lips, when he paused. “Are those…?”

Connor glanced down, a blush coming over his cheeks. He totally forgot about those. How did he forget about those? He had been shuffling through them for the past few minutes. How had he…

“Condoms!” Travis was much, much too gleeful about this whole situation. “Yes sir, they are. Why, you need some?”

An even rougher color fell over his face. God. What the hell had he done to the gods? Why was he punished so?

“Maybe later.” Mitchell grinned, joking and boyish in a way that had Connor wanting to smack his head into the floor. Repeatedly.

God, Connor had never been embarrassed by sex before. Hell, he had given several siblings the talk last year, with a pop up book, minimal innuendos and everything. But Mitchell, joking and grinning and showing off the line of his neck like that…

“I’ll see you boys later!” Mitchell yelled behind his shoulder, magic in his voice.

They were…He and Travis had trained themselves to detect it, magic, at this point. And Mitchell had let a bit dip into his voice, that natural attraction that all Aphrodite kids had. Like he needed it.

“Bye Mitchell!” Travis sang out, the biggest shit eating grin on his face. He dropped his head, waving off the other boy.

He Absolutely Did not watch the other boy as he walked out. He was _stronger_ than that.

_Goddamn skinny jeans never looked so good._

Fuck.

“Don’t say _a word.”_ Connor instructed, his head falling face-first into the nearest bunk.

“You’re pathetic.” He observed, letting Connor wallow in his embarrassment for a few minutes. “Come on, gather the kiddies, it’s almost time for lunch.”

“I can never eat again.”

“I heard they’re serving brownies today.”

“...I’ll go get the kids.”

* * *

Despite his previous declaration of never eating again, Connor found himself wrong several brownies later.

Goddamn, the camp brownies were great. This wasn’t the first, and wouldn’t be the last if Connor had any say in it, when he wondered if the gods actually had any hand in the preparation of those wonderful dessert squares. They were truly perfect.

Until Travis opened his mouth.

“Did ya hear?” Travis took his sweet time in continuing, taking a long bite of his pear. “Will Solace and Mitchell are going on a date this afternoon. Strawberry picking, my sources tell me.”

“Your sources?” Connor questioned doubtfully, even as Scarlett – one of the older Aphrodite kids – passed their table, giving them both a significant look. He carefully set down the small bite of brownie that he had left. His appetite had left him.

Travis only nodded. “Yup, actually…” He nodded to the other side of the Mess Hall. Connor glanced over, a bit surprised to see Mitchell lingering in front of the Apollo cabin. He was wearing that stupidly charming grin of his, the one he probably didn’t even realize Connor daydreamt about constantly. His hair was bright, his shoulders were loose, one hand tucked into his back pocket, and Connor was _screwed._

“There he goes.”

Connor’s shoulders dropped, and he probably didn’t even realize how much he wore his emotions on his sleeve. Travis took pity on him, as well as another juicy bite of his pear.

“Remember when Katie and Malcolm were supposed to have a lake date?” Travis poked at the soft skin of the pear, “Poor Malcolm. Such a shame he had to break both his legs beforehand.”

 _“We’re not breaking Will Solace’s legs_!” Connor hissed, not really used to being the reasonable brother. “We’ll just…” Connor thought it over, “We’ll ruin their date so absolutely that they’ll never want to see each other ever again. We just need to find out the details.”

Travis shot a significant look to the Aphrodite table where, had Connor been looking, Scarlett was nodding back in determination.

“That should be no problem.” Travis grinned into the next bite of his food, enjoying the confused look Connor shot him in response.

“Maybe if we ruin his outfit, he’ll back out.” Riley wondered out loud. Before Connor could speak up - either to endorse or deny the plan, he hadn’t decided yet - Riley grabbed a handful of baby carrots and shot them across the room.  

Cecil - probably not even hearing what Riley said, only seeing the flying food - grinned suddenly, throwing a few grapes to pelate the Aphrodite kids from the back.

Travis watched them with an uncaring eye, even slipping Lydia a small bowl of his apple slices.

Connor sighed, his head falling into his arms. He stayed like that for a few moments before Alec, probably in what was suppose to be an act of comfort, dropped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his hair.

Today was just going _great._

* * *

“Why am I helping you again?”

Connor shot her a look. “Horseradish.”

Katie sighed. “Why do you always horseradish at the weirdest times.” She shook her head, still bend behind the bush in a position similar to his. “Can I at least ask why?”

He flattened his lips into a straight line, peeking above the line of the bush. Nothing yet. “It is for the quest of _love.”_

There was a beat of silence. “My gods. You’re doing this to mess with Mitchell, aren’t you?”

 _“I’m not messing with him.”_ He hissed, “And keep your voice down! I’m just, I just keep to keep anything along with my plan, okay?”

Katie rolled her eyes, “And your plan is to try and keep him from dating because your ass is too wimp to ask him out? Great plan, Stoll. It’s almost as good as Travis’s ‘prank them until they notice me.’”

There was a long, long moment of silence. Connor stared ahead.

Katie groaned, “ _Really,_ Connor?”

“It worked with you!” He defended himself.

“He and I aren’t exactly the poster couple for conventional romance, you know.”

“Oh please, you two are endgame and you know it.”

“And? That doesn’t mean our awesome getting together is for -”

Connor cut her off, holding up his hand. She understood, she always did, and peeked above the bush with him.

“There they are.” Connor watched them, biting his lip. “They look like they’re having fun.”

Katie sighed next to him, her voice low. “Listen.” And Connor gave her a small gesture that he was. “Okay. I totally think you need to get off your ass with this. Mitchell’s not gonna stop living his life and you need to stop thinking you have to stop him from doing so. He either says yes or no, whatever, and you can move on. You _have_ to do that. But right now...” She glanced over the edge of the bushes, watching Will and Mitchell for a moment. “But when in Rome, or in the camp half blood strawberry fields watching the love of your life on a date with another man....” She plucked a fat, overripe strawberry off the vine, “You do as Roman’s - or Greek teenagers - do, right?”

Connor gave her a delighted grin. “And where are you going with this?”

She took a quick breath, rolling her eyes in the same movement. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She muttered, the strawberry still in her palm. “I _like_ Will. And Mitchell’s great.”

“Of course he is. He’s _Mitchell.”_

“Fuck it.” Was all Katie said before she pulled back her arm and threw the strawberry, her aim nearly perfect. If her aim had been Will’s face, that is. That’s where Connor would have aimed, anyways.

But, as it was off, it simply jabbed Will straight in the side, sputtering strawberry juice across both of them, causing them to jerk apart.

Connor picked the closest few strawberries off the vine, throwing a handful and stifling the laughter that was starting to climb up his throat.

He chucked a few at Will's head, just to be petty. The dude could probably heal himself instantly anyways so, like, no harm done.

Mitchell and Will tried to fight off their attacks for a few moments, dunked down together in the bushes in a way that  _absolutely_ did not have Connor bristling with thought of what they could be doing down there. He threw a few more overripe strawberries their way. 

"Ugh!" Katie made a face of disgust as - surprisingly - a strawberry flew back towards them and hit her straight in the chest, dipping goo down her shirt. 

Connor peeked over, and Mitchell's arm was still extended in a throw. Gods, that's hot. 

He helped Katie pick bits of fruit out of her frizzy curls - the heat was horrible for both of their hair - before turning back. He had kept up a constant throw despite not paying attention, which he felt was a proud moment for him. He glanced around, seeing nothing in front of them. Were they back down in the bushes? 

“Where’d they go?” Connor risked standing, looking around the fields.

“They ran into the forest.” Katie informed him, a bit out of breath. “Go, wait outside behind the bushes. They’ll have to separate eventually, right? Just - talk to him. Neutral stuff, ask him how the date went. You guys should be _friends_ first.”

Connor nodded, a glint of determination crossing his eyes. “Yes. Friends. I can do that.”

“Yes you can. Horseradish and everything.”

Connor gave her a look despite the bubble of nerves that was growing in her chest. “We can’t horseradish twice in one day.”

“Fine, whatever. Just trust me on this, okay?” Katie slapped him on his shoulder, “I’ll be waiting for you. Go get em Tiger.”

He gave her a slight smile, brushing off his shirt nervously. “I love _Spiderman.”_

“I know. The horrible Tobey McGuire effects and everything.”

“The third one wasn’t nearly as -”

“ _Go.”_

"Okay!" He finally help up his arms in surrender, stumbling towards the opening in the forest. Good. He'd just...wait here. He could stay hidden, he was good at that. And he'd talk to Mitchell like a normal person and maybe, if he wasn't too nervous, he'd maybe crack a joke and maybe Mitchell'd _laugh_ and maybe - 

Mitchell was emerging from the forest, alone and much too soon for Connor. 

A hot rod of panic shot through him. He thought he had _time,_ he - he had barely stared to hype himself up! How was he suppose to just walk up to the other boy and talk to him like everything was a-oh-jolly-okay? What the hell?? How do people even do this??

Mitchell passed him, paying no attention to the internal melt down Connor was currently having on the inside of a strawberry bush. The nymph was being surprisingly nice, letting him curl up into a ball of death and panic here. He should send her flowers, or purified water or whatever nature nymphs enjoyed having. Katie would probably know. 

He took a breath, his wandering thoughts at least doing a bit to calm himself. He nodded, the air feeling fresh and steadying in his expanding lungs, and he stood, careful not to brush any of bush under his feet. That was the least he could do. 

He slapped that trademark Stoll Confidence (TM) on, the same confidence that allowed him to talk his way out of several arrests and even more pick-pocketing incidents, and strolled up to Mitchell's retreating figure as if there were no other reason for Connor to be out there. 

"Bad date?" Connor asked.  _Ask about his date,_ Katie had instructed. And yeah, he already knew except for the ending which he was curious enough about - why was he leaving so soon, by himself? 

A rare pinched look had taken over Mitchell's face. The same look he took on when Scarlett and Sebastian were arguing which was, yeah, a lot. "No thanks to _your_ cabin, I'm sure." 

 _Actually, it was just me and Katie._ He didn't correct the other boy, instead trying again. Connor got it - he  _did_ ruin Mitchell's date which was kinda shitty of him  _but_ in his own complete defense, Connor had ruined a lot of dates in his day, and this was the first actually important one. 

He tried again. "Did you and Will have a nice time running around in the woods?" 

Talk about his date. Earn his friendship. Be chill, Stoll. You got this. 

The same biting tone was in his voice, more exhausted this time. Connor's heart squeezed painfully. "Go away, Connor. You ruined my date, happy? Now go plan whatever next scheme to mess with the Aphrodite cabin. You haven’t tried shrinking our clothes in a while, or maybe stealing all our accessories again?” Connor froze in place as Mitchell continued walking ahead. “Go knock yourself out.”

Mitchell didn't look back as he headed towards the cabins. 

"O..Okay." Was Connor's soft reply. 

* * *

 Like Connor was basically a pro at this point, he very nicely and neatly pushed all his feelings into a small box and mentally lit said box on fire. 

And that would have been it, honestly. Saved for another day, or at least until the next time he caught sight of the other boy. Which would probably be dinnertime. So. Saved till dinnertime, then. 

Which would have been great, had Travis not been immensely suspicious of he and Katie's matching strawberry goo streaks and grass stains. 

"We were pulling a prank." Connor said simply. Not because he was hiding anything, but Travis would totally go heartbroken if he knew Connor had intentional left him out. His brother wasn't the best at being incognito on prank missions when Katie was around, okay? And he needed Katie to sneak them into the fields and charm the vines to hide them. Travis would have blown their cover trying to show off how many strawberries he could chubby bunny at once or something. "You were busy." He added, because Travis _had_ been in charge of taking their siblings to the stables. He could have easily shrugged off the responsibility but, eh.  

Travis gave them a careful look. They were at one of the wooden picnic tables spread around camp. Connor had carved his initials into each one, long ago. His thumb dug into the letters as Travis considered them. 

"It was for Mitchell?" Travis asked after a moment, eyeing his younger brother. 

Connor kept his emotions in check - meaning, conveying he didn't have any - and nodded. 

Travis looked satisfied with that answer before a bit of confusion kept into his body language. He cocked his head to the side, glancing to his girlfriend. Katie looked more interested in the dandelions opening and closing around her feet then anything going on around them. 

“So Katie, not that I don’t approve because honestly, pranking is basically a kink in our relationship by now -” Connor gagged while Katie nodded in agreement. Travis continued, “But why did you help him?”

“He horseradished.” She explained, shrugging.

“I thought that was only for emergencies.” Travis crossed his arms, his head still cocked. 

“It _was_ an emergency!” Connor threw his hands up, “Mitchell was gonna go on his perfect, wonderful date with Will Solace and they were gonna fall in love and get married and have beautiful, doctor children and I was never going to get the chance to confess my undying love for him or anything!”

There was a beat of pause. Travis and Katie were now both turned to him, their arms crossed.

“You have to eat a spoonful of horseradish.” Katie declared. “Because that’s bullshit”

Connor shot a glare at her. “What about the last time _you_ horseradished?”

She paled. Travis shot them both a questioning look.

“Wait, when was the last time Katie used horseradish?”

 _“You said you wouldn’t tell him!”_ She hissed, her eyes slits.

“I haven’t.” He bit out, “ _yet.”_

“Okay, okay.” Travis, for once, took on the peacemaker role. He held up his hands in surrender, speaking through the tense air. “First - when one of you calls horseradish that’s, like, sacred between you guys. It’s none of my business, I get it.” A relieved look crossed Katie’s face. “Second - Connor - I think you better explain yourself. At least, a little.”

Connor sighed. “I - I just wanted to talk to him. And I knew I couldn’t do that if he had a boyfriend and I - I just needed more time.”

“Like you’d talk to him out of the blue.” Travis teased, “We’ve got to work up to that, little bro.”

There was a long moment of silence where Connor mostly stared at the ground. Katie gasped.

“Wait - you talked to Mitchell?” An excited look crossed Katie’s face. “What happened? What did he say?”

They both stared him, happy excitement bubbling from both of them, and Connor’s throat tightened.

Connor bit his lip, glancing away. He swallowed. “Nothing happened.”

Travis cocked his head to the side. “When it comes to Mitchell, it’s never nothing.” He teased, “What, no _his hair was shining under the afternoon sun_ or _he blushed while we were talking and now I want to die.”_

Connor said nothing.

Katie frowned, stepping forward to put her hand on his chin and force his eyes to hers.

Yeah, she was like a sister to him. But she was also his secret keeper, the one who kicked his ass out of bed after a bad break up, the one he held horseradish promises with.

Travis was the two a.m. call he’d make from a police station, but Katie would be the one he called in the morning to tell about it.

“What happened?” She finally asked, her voice soft. Her fingers were tight and firm on his face, and her eyes were steady.

Connor swallowed. Everything was coming out. “He yelled at me. And ran away”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Yelled? About what?”

“About the pranks. And ruining his date. He was -” His voice dropped to a lower pitch. “He was really mad, Katie."

Katie’s hand moved to rest on the side of his cheek before she pulled him into a hug. Literally pulled - she was much shorter than he was.

Out of all the people Connor had hugged in his life - which was a lot, he was a tactile person prone to group hugs much to the dismay of everyone around him - he had discovered that Katie Gardner gave the third best hugs in the world. 

The first being, of course, his mom. She was the best, okay? And when he was a kid there was nothing better then when she'd finally get a time of leave from the airline and he and Travis would run into her arms and breathe in her perfume and airplane soap. 

The second was Mitchell, he guessed. He hadn't _actually_ hugged Mitchell (yet) at this point in his life, but he guesses they're pretty great. 

But Katie was a solid third with good reason. Her hands came up under his arms and rested on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her, and this was the perfect angle to drop his face into her neck and frizzy, messy curls. Despite the height difference, he always felt safe in one of her hugs. 

He pulled away after a few moments, just enough so he could see both her and his brother. 

“We’ll stop the pranks.” Travis told him, his gaze oddly serious. “We’ll find another way to woo him, alright?”

Connor glanced away, “Maybe I should just leave him alone. He...said he wants me too.”

"No." Katie gave him a strict look. "He wants _prankster_ Connor Stoll to leave him alone. But nice friend Connor Stoll, the one that's going to be coming out from now on?" Her hands tightened on his shoulders. "He's gonna love him, I know." 

"We'll figure it out, man." Travis ruffled his hair. "You can, like, woo him with your weird vast knowledge on him." 

"It is pretty weird." Katie agreed. She pulled away from him, but not before Connor could pull her back in for a quick hug. 

 _"You_ guys are weird." He shot back, the resort weak but not really caring. 

Okay. He could try again, differently this time. This time, it was friendship. Being friends with him - making him laugh and smile - that was more then enough for Connor. It would be. 

He just had to get there first. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhh nice. finally out there.  
> sorry if this is a bit inconsistent or choppy. I'm jumping back and fourth between my google doc and the hcs to try and get everything right. alas, mistakes are made and forgiveness is begged for.  
> I'll be posting the next part before the weekend is over! promise y'all. horseradish me on this. xo.  
> thanks for reading! review if you too are in love with mitchell i am very much so i understand connor i understand.  
> EDIT -  
> [check out this awesome comic from chapter one by hikarishiroki on tumblr!](https://hikarishiroki.tumblr.com/post/162204482028/eyes-reflecting-fire-by-rosyredlipstick-comic)


	2. Chapter 2

Mitchell wasn’t at dinner.

Mitchell always made it to dinner. Sure, no one cared if a camper got too busy for a meal or two, and honestly, Connor probably wouldn’t have noticed had it not been _Mitchell._

Connor was trying to be his friend, and friends didn’t freak when one changed their routine.

But....they _noticed_ didn’t they?

And it wasn’t just that - all the Aphrodite kids were looking miserable, some more subtle than others. Scarlett, frankly, looked pissed, stabbing at her ravioli with a certain brand of her trademark anger. Sabrina, the youngest, looked close to tears with the whole situation. 

The only one not completely taken over by emotion was Piper, who looked a bit too confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation. Mitchell usually handled dinners. Mitchell usually handled a lot of things, in their cabin. 

Drew was glaring at Scarlett, Sebastian joining her deadly forces, but Scarlett looked wholly unaffected. Other than the quick tap of her too-long perfect nails on the wooden picnic table, of course, but otherwise - normal. Aloof, a bit of condescension in her eyes.

Connor finally broke. He turned to his side, his sister busy stacking all her raviolis on her plate. It was good work, nearly as tall as his hand. Go her. 

“Where do you think Mitchell is?” Connor asked, his voice a low but forced note of casualness.

Phoebe paused, her fork mid-application of another roll of pasta. She was the best secret keeper in the cabin, above only himself, and also the best known gossip, scarcely beating out Travis’s all-knowing tendencies.

She cocked her head, her eyes sliding over the other table. There was a strange tension in the air, and they were nearly silent with it. Considering the abundance of noise they usually made in a single meal, this was more noticeable than the usual shrieks of laughter, the bouts of loud laughter.

Phoebe matched his low tone. “I heard he and Scarlett got in a fight. Pretty bad one, he yelled and Mitchell, like, never raises his voice.” She chewed on her lip, thoughtful for a moment, a took a quick bite of the ravioli still hanging off her fork. “I’ve gotten conflicting reports on what about, but they seem to all go back to Scarlett not respecting Mitchell’s authority as their pseudo-counselor.”

She went back to her artful work, satisfied with her spread of knowledge. She was good like that, never questioned you afterwards.

It was a pretty well-known fact of who actually ran the Aphrodite cabin. Piper was off and about saving the world for months at a time, after all, and after Drew officially gave up the power in the cabin, she seemed pretty content to keep it off. The responsibility going to Mitchell, as oldest, was only natural.

But then Piper had returned, and for those first few days, no one had showed up for their cabin to the counselor meetings, and the Aphrodite kids were late to their activities and meals. 

It had all straightened itself out a few days later, with Mitchell returning back to his seat at the ping pong table across the Stolls, a pen at the ready, almost like he’d never left. The Aphrodite kids were back to their activities, usually early, and Mitchell was seen walking his siblings to the infirmary and hanging up their crafts around the front door of their cabin.

Connor couldn’t imagine that. It was hard enough being in charge of several teenagers he barely older then, but alone? With one of them constantly undermining him?

If Travis had suddenly started slacking on his duties, and if Connor was forced to pick them up, he’d probably be snapping right around now too.

Just then, the tower of ravioli came sliding down in a mess of tomato sauce and meat goo, much to the delight of Phoebe, and Connor was chewing on his lip in deep thought.

* * *

He checked over the notebook once more before he left, stuffing the bar into his pocket - everyone liked chocolate when they were upset, right? - and set off towards the archery field.

Afternoon. After dinner.

The sun was just beginning to dip behind the trees, but two of Mitchell’s sisters had quietly assured him that that wouldn’t matter.

Those two seemed to be particularly invested in their (nonexistent, at this point) relationship. Sophia kept urging him to act before the end of the week, despite his complete lack of plan or courage, and Lacey told him to stick to his heart (and hold out for until the end of July).

They were probably betting money on them, if he had to guess. Honestly, he was flattered more than anything.

But, while urging him along for their own benefit, they were also right because there he was, bent over while he angrily adjusted his gear, the only one in the vacated field. Not even the Apollo kids were out shooting this late.

He glanced across the field. Most of the arrows, not counting a few stray ones, were bulls-eye. He kept his impressed whistle to himself, instead taking another step forward. He tried to keep his steps audible, his shadow noticeable.

While death via Mitchell of Aphrodite was practically a given at this point, he’d like to keep razor sharp arrowheads out of it.

Mitchell glanced over to him, probably expecting one of his siblings, and his face darkened considerably. Connor’s heart dropped.

“What?” He snapped, dropping his bow to his side. There was a tired, aching line to his shoulders, his arms considerably tight. He must have been practicing for a while. Mitchell continued, his voice coated in an angry tint. “Did you lace it with poison ivy? Are there firecrackers in the arrows?”

The traitor part of him, the Hermes part of him, only echoed _Not bad ideas, honestly._

The rest of him, the human part of him, only felt sad.

He couldn’t stop the flinch from snapping at his cool expression, the words much sharper and tight then he was expecting. “No, I...uh…” He swallowed the tightness in his throat, glancing away. Fuck. This shouldn’t be so hard. Connor was _good_ at making friends - he _was_ \- and he never really had to consciously work at a friendship like it. Sure, people disliked him - mostly the victims of his hilarious pranks - but no one really... _hated_ him so obviously. Not like this. He continued. “You weren’t at dinner, and all your siblings looked miserable, so.” He left out the part _they looked miserable because you weren’t there, and honestly that made me a bit miserable too._  

Mitchell just sighed, scowling, and lifted his bow back. His movements were slow, like they were aching.

“I’m not in a mood for one of your tricks, Stoll.”

Connor’s mouth was already too dry. Was - was this it? Had he ruined even the possibility of friendship? “I wasn’t…” He didn’t even know how to finish that sentence.

Mitchell looked back to him, rock in his eyes, and a bit - just a bit - of that anger began to fade. None of which, he was belatedly realizing, was really directed at him. “Why are you here?” Mitchell suddenly looked very tired. “Hermes is in rock climbing right now.”

Connor ignored the question and only took on a curious look. He sat on the tree stump, crossing his legs. “How did you know that?”

Mitchell let out a small sigh, seeming a bit annoyed with the question but no longer angry. Which, honestly, would have made Connor’s day had his day not already been made by the sight of Mitchell’s biceps. Annoyance, unlike anger fueled hatred, Connor could totally work with. Nice!

The Hermes and Demeter cabins were teamed up for rock climbing, and he usually paired up with Cecil or Phoebe or, depending how competitive the couple was feeling that day, occasionally Katie. He had begged Travis to take over as counselor for the activity today, meaning Travis would have to spend the first half an hour helping their siblings into gear, escorting the inevitable injured sibling to the infirmary when the time came. Travis was agreed with good nature, of course, because his brother was great like that. He had also, minutes later, smooshed a mini-pie into his face - blueberry filling doesn’t belong _everywhere_ , he had learned, still smelling a bit of sugar and berry - so that evened it out.

“Hmm.” He glanced back to the field, Mitchell’s shots perfect. “You’re not too bad at archery, you know.” _Understatement of the year much._

“I’m best in Aphrodite.” Mitchell informed him, like Connor didn’t already know.

“That you are.” Connor smiled softly. _In so many ways._

Gods, Connor was a lovesick fool. Alas, dear Aphrodite, what had he done to deserve your scorn?

Mitchell ignored his lovesick words, or maybe he didn’t even realize them. _You poor, beautiful, oblivious fool, you._ He repeated his question from earlier, the one Connor had happily ignored. “Why are you here?”

His kept his shoulders loose, not letting them tense under the question. He kept his words light. “Bored.” He popped the end of the word, smiling slightly and glancing around. “It’s nice out here. And no one’s ever out here at sunset.”

Mitchell was lining up for another shot, half turned away from him. “It can mess up your shot.” He let the arrow fly. Another straight shot, right into the blue ring. Gods. Connor was so attracted to the other boy it was a miracle straight from the gods that he hadn’t started a house fire.

Connor had to keep down the amused snort that wanted to emerge at that. “Doesn’t seem to be messing you up.”

There was a beat of silence, Mitchell unanswering as he averted his gaze and messed with his arm guard. A long, angry red line ran up his arm from where it had been pressed into his skin for the past few hours.

He took a mental sigh of air to calm his nerves. He was here as Mitchell’s hopefully-maybe-one-day-friend, not just to annoy the other boy and stare at his frankly impressive biceps. Friends. And friends…they talked about this kinda stuff, right?

Right.

“Want to talk about it?” He offered, his voice as relaxed as he could get it. “Everyone knows you always blow off steam with archery, and your mood isn’t exactly the picture of composure. What’s up?”

_Everyone meaning your siblings and those who bribe your siblings into getting information about you. So me. Everyone meaning me._

Mitchell gave him a dry look from over his shoulder. “I thought you came out here for the quiet? Wouldn’t I just be ruining that?”

Personally, Connor doesn’t think Mitchell could ruin any aspect of his life unless he physically actually succeeded in murdering him. And even then, Connor’s heart has been wanting to jump out of his chest for the past few weeks on its own, and therefore Mitchell totally couldn’t take all the blame for that.

Instead he just laughed softly, the thought kind of hilarious to him. Yeah. _Right._ “I doubt that.” He only answered, a smile in his voice. “You can talk, if you want.”

Mitchell seemed to think it over, Connor a bit too thirsty and desperate for his own good, and a wave of relief hit him when Mitchell finally nodded, and lowered his bow. “That sounds good actually.” Mitchell told him, not fully able to hide the tone of relief that came with dropping his stiff arms. Ouch.

Connor patted the space next to him, trying not to look too eager, probably failing horribly. “Go on, Dr. Stoll is at your service.”

 _Oh gods, I’m into roleplaying now, aren’t I?_ Mitchell gave him a soft, very soft stretch of his lips, and Connor had to bite down a curse. _The doctor and nurse. Fuck._

Connor had never had more respect for the medical community then he did at that moment.

He sat, Connor taking a moment to mourn the absence of being able to stare at Mitchell’s ass, and took a moment to get comfortable. Connor nudged his shoulder after a few moments of still silence, mostly as an excuse to get a few inches closer to the other boy, and Mitchell spoke.

“With you and Travis, since you’re both counselors, do you ever feel like, like it’s too overwhelming?” Ah. Phoebe had probably been right, then. “I hate that I can’t even fight with my siblings because I’m supposedly in charge, and I hate that because I’m not even the real  counselor, I have to fight for their respect sometimes.

Ah. Connor was familiar with this.

It was weird having control and responsibility over a few handfuls of kids only a bit younger than you were, balancing on that line that made you in charge but also, you know, a fun person. Travis was better at it then him, which was fine. Connor wasn’t meant to lead, wouldn’t even be in this position if Travis hadn’t insisted on co-counselling when Chiron approached him after Luke had...gone off.

He forced his thoughts back to the conversation.

“Is this about something particular?” Already knowing, but he also knew it would probably help Mitchell to talk about it. He edged Mitchell in the right direction. “Did you have a fight?”

Mitchell gave him a stiff smile. “Scarlett and I exchanged words.” He’d have to give Phoebe prompts next time he saw her. She was good. ““She called me killjoy. Which, I mean, I know I am. I worry too much, and I overthink the little stuff. No wonder they can't put up with me.”

_Hold up._

Completely unrelated, he might just sign up to spar with Scarlett soon, he thinks. She’s camp-known for her ability to take down a man within a minute, but Connor’s happy to make the sacrifice.

Connor frowned, keeping his emotions in check and voice light. “Hey, you seem to be forgetting that I’ve met all your siblings.” He’s met _all_ of Mitchell’s crazy siblings, with scars as proof. “If out of that group, they see caring too much is the biggest problem, well, something has to be wrong.”

Michell seemed to find a bit of comfort in this which, uh, _win._ Connor was the _shit_ at this friend stuff.

He could totally get away with the cheesy date arm stretch right now. He’d never get the gall to actually _do_ it, but he totally could have gotten away with it. He was _comforting_ a _friend_ right now. Friends did that. The thought would fuel several daydreams, he’d later learn. He glanced back to the other boy, his shoulders looking strangely empty, and continued on a bit more serious note. It was a strange note for him. “Even with Travis as my right hand man, it gets to be too much at times. Sometimes, even if we don't want too, we have to put a cap on the other Hermes kids.”

Which, sucks. But sometimes he has to look into the frantic - always excited or frantic - eyes of their little siblings, and listen to their plan and he’ll look over at his brother and Travis will shake his head, or Connor will shake his head, and then their siblings are looking up at them with sadness and betrayal and heartbroken slack faces.

Gods, that sucked.

Mitchell hung his head in his hands, which was a travesty in itself. “But I don’t want to. It’s not my job. Sometimes, I want to have fun and be a little crazy, ya know?” Mitchell looked at him through his fingers, causing Connor’s heart to skip a few, maybe ten or so, beats. Traitor.

Mitchell didn’t seem to notice his temporary moment of heart failure. Nice. Keep it up, Stoll.

Mitchell continued,“But I have too. Because if I don’t, no one will. I think it would be different if it was my job, instead of me just covering for Piper all the time. She's...I guess she’s too wrapped up in her own stuff right now. I don’t know.” He let out a small sigh, looking defeated.

Connor had to resist the urge to glance away, the words suddenly hitting home a little too close.

He remembers years ago, when Luke was just beginning to shell out on some of his responsibilities. Forgetting activities, asking Travis to go to the counselor meeting for him, taking long walks into the forest. Not like he’s implying Piper’s engaged with the Titan of evil and darkness or whatever but…

He knows how easy it is for a sibling to slip through the cracks.

“You should talk to her.” Connor lifted his voice to keep the softness out of it. “We both know how important siblings are. Don't let her cut herself off.”

There was still a bit of guilt in those words, even as he said them.

But Mitchell - thankfully - didn’t pick up on that. He stared at Connor, seemingly considering Connor’s  words, before smiling and _shit,_ Connor was gonna need at least, like, an hour warning the next time - _next time?_ \- the other boy decided to bulldoze one of those over him.

“Thank you, Connor.” Mitchell’s smile was still in place, “You’re kind of cool when you’re nice.”

Hahahahahaha.

Connor wanted to die.

Could that even be considered a real compliment? No matter, Connor would be mentally framing those words and fondly looking back on them for the rest of his life.

Connor struggled to get his face into a neutral expression. Trying for a smile. “Only for you.” He choked out, a lot smoother then he had hoped for.

Before Mitchell would inevitably comment on his suddenly choking throat, probably deer-in-headlights expression, their silence was interrupted.

By Mitchell’s stomach.

Truly, thank the gods.

He latched onto the distraction, “Wanna candy bar?” He was suddenly so goddamn grateful for the sugar and milk bar currently melting itself through his pocket. He wiggled for a moment, getting it out of his pocket, and handed it over. “Might be a little warm, but should be fine.”

Mitchell beamed when he saw the wrapper. “Those are my favorite!”

Fucking shit.

_Yeah, I know._

A nice, amusing thought - really - and one that he really would have preferred to stay in his head.

Mitchell gave him a strange look, and with creeping dread akin to what one would feel moments before getting murdered by hitmen - or so he imagines - Connor realized he had said that outloud.

“Everyone knows.” He choked out, back to the _everyone._ Fuck this _everyone_ person.

Mitchell offered him the first bite of his bar- he was so considerate and nice, _fuck_ \- but Connor shook his head.

“Everyone seems to know a lot about me.” Mitchell only observed, taking a bite off his bar. Connor was seized with panic.

_What are you playing at, Mitchell? Gods, he knows, doesn’t he? He totally knows. You oblivious fool, of course he knows. Gods. Gods, why. Why have thou forsaken me??_

Connor was totally casual as he avoided answering the question _\- what would he even say???? -_ and settled for a nice, safe shrug.

Mitchell finished his bar and thanked him, smiling. “I no longer feel like murdering anyone, and my stomach no longer feels like disgusting my other organs.”

Gods. He’s such a boy. And so goddamn funny.

Connor briefly wonders the fate of the dinosaurs. He seems to be as gone as they are, at this point.

Flustered and half high with the attention of his - um - friend?, Connor can only weakly joke out. “Well, when you put it like that you almost make me sound like a hero.”

“My hero.” Mitchell fluttered his eyelashes, causing instant heart failure for one Connor Wendell Stoll. Cause of death: Mitchell’s fucking eyes. “Always there to offer advice and candy bars.”

And anything else you could possibly want, of course. Just say the word.

Or vaguely insinuate you want something.

Or glance at something you might want.

Connor will _get_ it.

“Always.” He tries to keep the constant devotion out of his voice, he really does.

“C’mon.” Mitchell holds out his hand, and Connor’s pretty sure he’s had _this exact dream_ several times within the last, like, week. “I could do with a s'more, and the campfire starts in half an hour. I’ve also heard a rumor that a few Aphrodite kids are planning a particularly intense game of spin the bottle.”

Mitchell stood then, and Connor was thrown off for a long, long, _long_ moment as this action put him face-first with The Ass (™).

It took him an even longer moment to process what Mitchell had said.

“....Wait, what.”

* * *

Mitchell was much too funny, much too sarcastic, for his own good, and Connor snorted out a laugh in response.

Which proved itself to be a deadly mistake.

Sebastian spun towards him, a knife sharp grin plastered on his face, a knowing glint in his eyes, and Connor’s heart nearly stopped.

And not in a _my gods Mitchell is literally the cutest person I’ve ever seen ever in my life forever_

Or _holy shit are those a new pair of skinny jeans holy fUCK_

But in a _I am going to die at this moment_ kind of way.

His heart had only stopped like this twice in his life - both in the face of battle, both in the actual faces of snarling monsters.

And now, of course.

Sebastian was still grinning that horrible stretch of lips. “Connor Stoll. It seems we haven’t had the chance to get to you.” His voice was like the growl of a beast, and goosebumps traveled up the back of his neck. _“Truth_ or _dare.”_

There was a small ripple of dramatics - done mostly by the Aphrodite kids, a few of his own siblings - Phoebe, Anya, Cecil - who knew and reacted appropriately

Not appropriately enough ,of course, because that would involve someone kidnapping Connor out of this situation.

Okay. Okay. It’s fine - even with all their eyes on him, some excited, some worried, most uncaring - he just had to think. Fast.

Truth - risk having to sit and admit his horrible, much too large feelings for the boy sitting, grinning for once at _him_ , at his side.

Dare - Either a cheat to a truth question or….something else.

Something more like the awkward brushes of lips shared by couples moments before.

And it wasn’t like Connor didn’t want to kiss Mitchell - _fuck_ did he want to kiss Mitchell, on his cheeks and his nose and the line in between his eyebrows, up his neck, on those pale collarbones of his -

On his lips, of course.

But not like this. Not with half of their siblings gathered, giggling, around them.

He - he had a _plan._

(His mind insisted on this fact, and he didn’t even try shooting it down this time. Because whatever plan out there, not yet thought up or acted on, _this_ wasn’t any part of it)

He couldn’t do this. He could get himself out of any situation, out of police holdings, out of detention offices, out of a literal locked basement once - a simple game, he could escape from. He just had to think fast, quick, some excuse, some -

“Connor, I totally forgot to tell you!” Mitchell interrupted his intense thinking session, grabbing onto his shoulder and shaking him out of his thoughts. “Travis wanted me to let you know that you were in charge of getting cabin eleven back before curfew tonight. You might want to go check on them.”

He blinked once, twice, and then relief hit him like a fucking brick.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He breathed out, mostly on autopilot, and had to firmly remind himself that he _didn’t_ want their first kiss to be in front of a group of random campers and their siblings. He got to his feet, probably a bit too frantic, and mouthed, over his shoulder so Mitchell couldn’t see the obvious, bright color smeared across his cheeks.

_Thank you._

Mitchell waved him off, happy with dancing eyes.

Alec had managed to make a quadruple stacked s'more in the absence of anything resembling Hermes cabin authority, Lydia was throwing suspicious looking official documents into the raging fire with a blank face, Riley was tempting the Apollo cabin into an inappropriate version of _What’s in your Picnic Basket,_ and the warmth in Connor’s chest had nothing to do with the campfire.

* * *

Connor was _so relieved_ his kids had nothing to do with what happened in the Mess Hall.

He and Travis had turned on their siblings as soon as they all returned to their cabin, fire in their eyes, and Travis had asked, in a very careful and calm voice, if anyone had had anything to do with what had happened.

There was silence.

Not the guilty kind, but with shifting eyes across each other as they each seized each other up.

“Okay.” Connor said after a moment. He surveyed their siblings, lined up, and the air was heavy with seriousness.

His siblings were stone-faced, for once. There were no cracking grins, twinkling eyes. That was...that was good. 

None of them had done it.

He nodded, turning to his brother. Travis was already nodding too. They got it.

“Okay.” Connor repeated, waving his hand. “Picnic dinner tonight, just grab from the suitcases. Keep the chaos to a minimum.”

With that, his siblings broke from their serious air. They began to return to their bunks, first quietly talking before getting increasingly louder with each second. He turned fully to his brother, Travis watching them all with a considering, heavy gaze. It made him look older then he was. 

“I need some air.” Connor wiped at his eyes, suddenly exhausted. “Can you handle the kids for a few hours?”

Travis was already climbing into his top bunk, perfect for watching over their siblings. “Go ahead.” He used a folded magazine to salute from his place perched on his bed. “I’ll hold over the front lines.”

Connor was _so_ grateful he had a partner in crime for all this.  

He shut the door careful behind him, keeping the loud and mess inside.

He took a deep breath, the heavy worry that had settled on his skin rippling off like water. He felt like relief.

He started walking towards the camp store, figuring he might as well take stock of their contraband hidden under the floorboards. It would calm his still-frantic mind, the motions of counting through the supplies and writing it all out. It would do him good.

He was almost to the store, taking a shortcut right through the strawberry fields, when he noticed something.

It was Mitchell - fast walking towards the stables.

He considered, for a half second mostly done out of boredom, of not following the other boy.

Then the half-second past and Connor remembered how head over heels he was for the other guy, and began to head towards the stables. Easy as that. After a day like this, Mitchell’s radiant face would be a welcome solace.  

If anything, he could show off his few bits of relevant Mitchell stables info. Like how Mitchell always preferred the last riding horse on the left, the one with white spots named after some candy. Or that he knew Mitchell would be incredibly thirsty afterwards - being in the sun, and all - and he could totally offer to walk them back to the Hermes cabin and grab them some drinks but wait, what we only have one gatorade left? How unfortunate. I guess we could share if that’s okay with _you ~~~_

Connor’s thoughts stop mid-sentence, right at the part where they were forced to walk the beach together bare-foot when Connor would finally admit his long-time crush.

Because Mitchell is there, huddled on the ground of the dirty stables, with his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with soft sobs, and Connor never knew he could feel such heartbreak at the image of someone.

He bends down, his hand finding Mitchell’s elbow, and Mitchell is looking up at him with those watery, red swollen eyes slightly widened in surprise and Connor is desperately thinking of what to do, what Travis would do, and he tries to remember what Travis did the first time Katie cried in front of him, which is hard because Connor doesn’t know any Superstores that would deliver several life-size teddy bears on such a short notice and would Mitchell even like a single life-size teddy bear much less nine of them?

Mitchell is sniffling; still looking at Connor with those _eyes_ and Connor can’t help but gather the other boy into his arms.

Ten of them. He deserves them. Two in every color, and perhaps even a few pounds of white chocolate bars.

“Hugging you, in case that wasn’t clear.” He says in lieu of explanation when Mitchell begins to question Connor’s tightly wound arms.

He likes Mitchell here, with his face buried in Connor’s neck, even though he’s probably getting snot and tears all over him. He still likes it. Mitchell was safe here, under Connor’s arm, and Connor wanted to keep it this way forever. Maybe without Mitchell crying, because Connor’s heart just _breaks_ at every little sniffle and sound that escapes the other boy.

Asked at this moment (at any moment leading up and after this fateful moment, honestly) Connor Stoll would have done anything to put a smile on Mitchell’s face, and keep it there.

And anything translates to everything, in his book, which is what he does.

Connor bursts into the Hermes cabin and stands in the doorway for a long moment. The familiar chaos is welcoming, and the slight permanent smell of smoke is comforting. He shoves his two forefingers in his mouth and lets out a piercing whistle, one that he knows will only gather their attention for a few beats of time if he doesn’t manage to catch it with his first few words. His siblings turn to stare at him, and he lets out a heavy breath, a grin curling up his lips.

“Put down the firecrackers.” He instructed, his voice grave. He paused to consider his words for a moment, “Actually no, pick them up. Gather your arsenals kids; we’re starting a Prank Week.”

There was a long, still moment of tense silence that rings through the cabin before Alec, one of the hyperactive ten year olds that Travis and Connor didn’t even pretend to have control over, lets out a piercing scream in pure excitement, lighting off a line of firecrackers in the same motion. The rest of the kids join in, bouncing up and down and now screaming just as loudly.

The row of firecrackers went off as Alec just barely managed to throw them out the window in time, probably directly into the Hephaestus cabin. He’d send Nyssa an apology basket tomorrow - they had things to do.

Travis, giving him a dull look over the chaos and fire that was beginning to overtake the floor of their cabin, only rolled his eyes before going back to _Fireworks Weekly._ His top bunk worked surprisingly well to give Connor a condescending look. “Prank Week, huh?” He flipped a page, slow and deliberate. “Anything to do with the rumor that the Aphrodite cabin was in charge of what happened earlier in the Mess Hall?”

Connor gave him an incredulous look, “How do you know that _already.”_

“I know everything.” Travis told him dismissively.

Connor bit his lip, turning away for a moment to grab onto his brothers collar, pulling him out of the way of the active potato launcher. “Mitchell was crying.” He finally confessed, turning back.

That seemed to at least catch his attention. Travis shut his magazine, giving him a considering look. “I have a teddy bear supplier on retainer.”

Connor continued to chew on his lip. “Mitchell was _really_ crying. He said he would take the blame for his brother and…and get kicked out of camp.”

Travis stared at him, finally pushing his magazine completely to the side. “Alright.” He clapped his hands together, throwing his legs over the side of his bunk to hang down. “I’ve pulled together a Prank Week for much less.” He gave Connor a significant look, “And I get where Mitchell’s coming from. I’d do pretty much anything for my brother too.”

Connor nodded, “Right back at you, bro. Now.” He grinned, bending under his own bunk to pull out a large, bright red duffel bag. “It’s time.”

* * *

He was proud of his siblings reaction time to the call of Hermes.

Middle of the night fire alarm tests? Pathetic.

Call to battle drill? Embarrassing.

Capture the flag strategy run throughs? Pitiful.

But this?

The call to the war for a fellow brother?

A call to prank, a sacred act in which ran through their _divine blood?_

His siblings were ready in _seconds._

Lydia was already rolling out sheets of bundled up vials, potions, as Anya looked over her shoulder with a clipboard, taking careful stock.

Chris was standing on the end of his bottom bunk, using the few precious inches of height it gave him to fold down the attic door, unfolding the ladder. Alec was on his back, babbling away in excitement, and climbed Chris’s shoulders like a monkey in order to get to the secret door faster.

Phoebe flipped her mattress and was pulling bottles out of the stitched out hole she had made when she first arrived. Shaving cream, and lots of it.

Even Wade - so often too constantly annoyed with their antics and too much of a jerk for anyone to try and fix that annoyance - was following Felix’s quick orders to gather all the bar soap from the camp store he could carry.

Riley was still in her top bunk, grinning much, much too widely. She threw down a silver packet to him, an evil glint in her eyes.

“Fire-starters?” He questioned, flipping over the pack. Industrial strength. Nice.

“I’ve got an idea, and it involves fire, the lava rock climbing wall, and twenty pounds of hot dogs.”

Connor gave her a five high in return, because whatever it was, it sounded great.

He might be slightly biased. He loved a good Chicago style hot dog.

Travis had finally hopped down from his bunk, leaning into his ear to speak over their siblings excited shrieks. “We’ve got to work on her arseny habit, you know.”

Connor shot him a look. “Sure. But _after_ prank week.”

“Of course.”

* * *

The Ares kids were rushing him off, Connor was running for his life, and he’d never felt so good.

Mitchell had smiled at _him._ Thanked _him._

They were _friends._

Connor couldn’t put enough emphasis on the word to signify the importance of it all.

They were _friends._

He grinned for the rest of the day, even when the Demeter cabin retaliated with several rolls of saran wrap and duct tape.

Okay, maybe not through _that,_ but still. Great day.

His plan was going along smoothly.   

* * *

“Hey, I’m crashing your date.”

Travis threw him a bundle of tin foil. “It’s not crashing if we figured you’d join at some point.” He nodded down to the pre-wrapped sandwich. “Ham and hot sauce, you disgusting fool.”

Connor unwrapped it happily, not minding it when Katie chucked a bag of chips at his head. Nice. Hot cheetos. They knew him so well.

“How’s everything with the bubblegum bombs?” Connor asked through a mouthful of food. Neither his brother, and definitely not Katie, minded in the slightest.

“A few hiccups.” Travis winced, probably referring to the batch that had blown up mid-testing. Chris was still picking gum out of his curls. He’d probably have to shave it. “But, after messing with the fizz content and reaction time, we should be set to let them off tomorrow.”

“My cabin _better not_ get those.” Katie warned them, “We can take a prank but Stolls, I swear to the gods and on the River Styx, I’ll make you _pay.”_

A small ripple went through the air at the heavy promise. Connor had to press down his guilty look.

He met Travis’s eye, already mentally moving the bombs to another portion of camp. _Neither_ of them wanted to test her words.

“Of course not.” Travis was saying, shooting her a charming smile despite her witnessing their quick, but obvious, exchange. Idiot.

“Good.” Katie nodded with satisfaction. “How’s everything else going? You guys haven’t gone this hard in forever. I ran into three pranks on my way to the strawberry fields this morning, which is honestly a bit impressive.”

“It’s a lot.” Connor shrugged, taking another bite of his sandwich. “It’s worth it. But Travis and I are taking a break for the afternoon, letting the kids run a few of their amateur ideas. Chris cleared them all, so, like, the camp shouldn’t blow up or anything.”

“Gods, finally, a break.” Travis stretched across the grass and curved his back, a few pops escaping from the action. “Prank week’s taking it out of me.”

“You’re getting old.” Connor told him with mock sympathy. “One day we’re youthful teens, the next I’m checking you into an old folks home.”

Travis mock gasped, “You would never! Katie!” He turned to his girlfriend, “You would never let that happen to me, right?”

Katie gave him a considering look. “You might weigh me down as I travel in my old age.” She shot Connor a look, “Perhaps your brother is right. Leave the fun times to the young ones, yes?”

Travis groaned, falling on his back and lamenting about betrayal.

Travis was only older than Katie by three months, and Connor hardly a year, but they never let him forget that.

“So.” Katie popped out after they finally stopped laughing. “How’s everything on the Mitchell front?”

“You make it sound like I’m fighting a war or something.”

“Oh, but aren’t you?” She raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk crossing her face. “A battle for his heart, perhaps?”

He and Travis both groaned at that. Between the three of them, Katie was the biggest - and most user - of puns.

“I followed what you said.” He allowed her, taking a messy bite of his sandwich. “We’re on friendly terms now. I think...I think we might be considered friends, at least.” He was a little embarrassed at how happy his voice went at that. “We’ve been joking around, a little bit.”

Katie gave him a playful look, swiping one of his chips. “And you’re still swooning when he laughs, right?”

Connor elbowed her, weakly. “Shut up, that was _once.”_

There was a beat of silence.

Connor barely pressed back a sigh. “You...you didn’t tell her about that did you.”

Travis’s voice was gleeful. “Nope.”

Connor didn't bother hiding his sigh, this time. 

* * *

 “Hey Connor.”

Connor glanced up, already grinning from the voice. Travis had just run out to the Ares cabin in order to plant some paint tablets in their shower system, leaving him alone cross-legged on the floor as he went through some plans Lydia had thought up. Heatless flames, perfect for the fire balloons prank she had been working on. It was good - she had been learning.

The smile on his face was nothing was warm emotion, probably a little sickly sweet. What? It’s not like he got an unexpected visit from the other boy every day. He let himself enjoy it. “Hey, you need something?”

Mitchell looked oddly serious for a moment. “How do you always have Candy Cane Chapstick?”

Connor paused, the papers in his hands freezing. He continued on, keeping his hesitation to a minimum, and kept his voice even. He hoped Mitchell wouldn’t notice the color on his cheeks - he was constantly blushing around the other boy anyways. He grinned, slapping on that casual confidence,  “Why, can I get you a tube? Lost your other one already?”

“I’m good. Actually, I came here to investigate a rumor I heard.”

Damn, Mitchell looked good in his cabin. He should come around more, just to pose strategically around the worn wooden porch and doorway.

“Yeah?” Connor busied his hands in the nearest snack bag, laid out open from where Travis had been snacking earlier. Rumor? Maybe he found about about the prank they had planned later, the one involving spray paint and several water guns. The Aphrodite cabin was bound to get caught up in it, with it happening on their side of the Mess Hall. Maybe Mitchell wanted to ask him to call it quits? Gods, he hoped not. Connor was weak and Anya would never let him live it down if he broke so easily in the face of a cute boy. “Anything I can help with?”

“Probably.” There was a pause and Connor glanced back up to Mitchell, leaning casually against the door frame. Connor had never wanted to be a piece of wood so bad in his life.

But then Mitchell continued, and practically tore the floorboards out from under him.

“My siblings seem to be underthe impression that you have _quite_ the crush on me.”

Connor froze, his hands mid-air, and he could have sworn his heart stopped mid pump.

Okay. So. Apparently his heart has stopped mid-death situation _four times._ Nice, cool, awesome.

And Mitchell was still talking, his voice flippant.

“I didn’t believe them, of course.”

_Why. the. FUCK._

“But I had to come check. So?”

_Has? Connor? Not? Made? His? Thirstiness? Known? Enough????_

“After all, someone wouldn’t prank their crush so much unless it was a Hermes kid, right?”

Oh gods. Screw Mitchell’s stupid perfect smile. This was going to be how he _died._

Like, _for real._

This was so not cool beans. He had - how did, why did his siblings tell him? They had a _deal,_ forged through several MAC lipsticks and Too-Faced palettes. That was _sacred._

“I’m suspecting Cecil, perhaps. He’s always been nice, and funny. Actually, he’s in the armory now, right?”

Connor….Connor didn’t know what to do. And _Cecil???_ What the _fuck??_

Connor mentally viewed his choices, still too wide-eyed and in shock. He could deny it all, of course, and continue on in awkward air. He could sent Mitchell along to his brother, his smile stiff as Cecil would inevitably let Mitchell down softly and laugh in Connor’s face loudly. He could continue on their _friendship_ \- because they were _friends_ now, and that was something Connor had been _working_ at.

Or -

Or he could spill it all to Mitchell - that his siblings were right, he was a lovesick goo of a person, that Connor was totally ass over shoulders in goddamn _love with him._

“Good thing too, I love a boy in gear.”

Connor could wear gear. Connor could wear all the gear, or none of it, all at once. He would do anything Mitchell asked of him, at this point.

Mitchell winked, sending Connor’s poor, poor heart into an early grave. He was beginning to haze himself with slight pink and that - that meant he was using his magic. Very slightly, but Aphrodite magic was strong. And Connor was a weak, weak man.

“Alright, well I better get going if I want to catch him.” He looked over his shoulder at Connor, giving him a considering look, while Connor got a full view of The Ass(ets). “That’s too bad about earlier, you’re kinda cute. Thanks, Connor!”

_cUTE_

Fuck it.

“Wait!” Connor choked out, standing and stumbling over the case of contraband at his feet. He was breathing heavily, from the gods know what, and his suddenly noodle legs made him struggle to stand He was wide-eyed, and Mitchell was in the doorway, and he was _so, so_ glad the rest of his siblings were at the armory right now.

“Wait.” He said once more, and Mitchell turned very slowly. Connor sent a quick, desperate prayer to Aphrodite.

_Aphrodite, please. Give a thirsty boy some pity. Great work on this one, by the way._

“Yeah?” Mitchell had a small, slight smile on his face, probably already daydreaming of Cecil and him running through a meadow or some shit. He took a quick breath and went right in.

_Aphrodite, help me._

“The – your siblings – the rumor, um, the rumor, it was right. The rumor was right.” He finally got out, breathless, and shoved his hands into his back pockets. It’s almost like if he couldn't see his shaking hands, he could pretend they’re completely still. That he was completely chill about all this.

Mitchell looked adorably confused. Fuuuuck (x10). “What about the rumor?”

His nervous energy was getting to him. He shoved his hands out of his pockets and started tapping out a beat, resisting the urge to start pacing. He tried again, his prayer for Aphrodite a near mantra throughout his mind at the moment. “That I – that I, um, like you. Crush wise. I have a crush on you.”

Gods. He had finally said it.

Mitchell looked surprised, almost like the thought had never occurred to him. What the hell. Connor had _literally_ been staring at him for the past forever. Should he have printed up tshirts proclaiming his huge, embarrassing crush for the other boy? Glow in the dark, neon letters and all?

….Not his worst idea, honestly.

 _“You’re_ the one who’s been pulling the pranks on me?” Connor bit his lip, regret filling his chest for a quick moment.

“Well, yes, but Travis _swore_ it would work.” It! Worked! For! _Him!_

Connor stifled his wince. “And you dyed my hair blue?”

Connor huffed, mumbling. _Not like it worked as a goddamn prank. The only fool I played was_ **_myself._ **

Everything was already out in the open now. Might as well dig the hole for his corpse because his stupid, traitorous heart had jumped out at its first chance and now it needed a new home.

“Well, yeah, but it was suppose to be a joke but then you had the audacity to go and look like you. It wasn’t _supposed_ to look make you look like some pop punk Hot Topic model.” Connor frowned, a bit mad. At the world, a little at whatever god was having so much fun messing with his life, mostly. 

Mitchell, strangely, thanked him, looking a bit confused.

But this was like the floodgates bursting opening because Connor couldn’t _shut the hell up._ “And then - and then you went on a date with Solace? Really? Like, no offense to Will, I love the guy and he’s single handling keeping Travis and I in business from his twizzlers addiction, but like -”

Mitchell was leaning against one of the bunks, looking far too amused with Connor’s ramblings. “Connor, dear?”

Connor paused, his traitorous cheeks betraying with a soft emergence of color. He had to swallow to keep himself from word-vomiting a marriage proposal across the other boy.  “Um. Yes?”

“The date was to make Nico jealous.” Mitchell was the perfect picture of nonchalance and _Connor was the exact opposite._ “Us Aphrodite kids have been trying to get that together for weeks now. Of course, it only ended in making the wrong person jealous.”

_Oh._

_Ohhhh._

**_Hahahahaha._ **

Fuck his life.

“Oh yeah - um -  that. Yeah.”

“You’re lucky I like strawberries.” For some unknown reason, Mitchell was grinning. Probably at Connor’s no doubt stupid expression. He continued, “Enough that I actually wouldn’t mind going to pick a few more. How about Friday? Before dinner?”

And that -

\- that was something he hadn’t been expecting.

Connor was 1000% percent sure the shock was as clear as his sexuality across his face. He was definitely blushing, hard. He snapped his jaw close, unwilling to stand there with a gaping mouth.

Mitchell had just...asked him out?

Him? Connor Wendell Stoll? Out? On a date?

Connor had to briefly check he was still, you know, alive.

Ridiculous, he knows. Not even Hades would think to bestow this treatment on him. Either a punishment, from the embarrassment filling his cheeks only a moment ago, or...this, whatever was happening right now, the Underworld could in no way compare.

And a rare feeling of calmness came over him. He took a small breath. He....had not been expecting that. At all. Not even a little.

_Be chill, Stoll._

_Be the coolest bean._

The feeling of peace settled over his skin like shadows, pressed close. He could do this.

But first - he had to actually say something. Preferably soon.

“Sure.” Connor had to work at not popping the word, a tendency of his when he was nervous. “I mean, that sounds - that sounds cool.”

‘Cool’ wasn’t exactly the first word that came to mind with the thought of perhaps dating Mitchell. More like ‘hot’ in all terms of honesty.

Connor went to lean against the bed frame - something he had done so many times that at this point in his life it was just _natural,_ and yeah, it was official: some god out there _had it out for him._

Had he simply pranked the wrong demi-god and their godly parent was having none of it? Pick-pocketed the wrong person, the wrong offspring? Gods know.

Because as he was leaning to do this _extremely natural movement -_

\- he missed.

Completely.

Just kept on leaning and falling until eventually he was just face-first in a mess of pillows and he had to realize what he had just done.

_In front of Mitchell._

Mitchell was laughing, at least, so Connor at the very least had a decent soundtrack as he descended into the Underworld. Goodbye Earth, no need for him here anymore. 

Mitchell’s laughter was like if candy was a sound. “You okay?” He asked, laughter and sweetness still bumping its way through the air.

Connor refused to look up from where his face was still firmly imprinted into the mattress. This was his new home. Maybe Mitchell would visit him occasionally, out of guilt for causing Connor’s hermit-hood. Riley would eventually want her bunk back but, eh. She could deal.

He eventually got around to answering the other boy with an obvious: “No.” He wondered if his cheeks would burn forever. He should star in a traveling circus, he could headline as _The Boy Who Blushed Forever Bc a Cute Boy Asked Him Out._

He’d get spectacular reviews, he could already predict.

He tried another route. His face was too pretty for a carny life, anyways. “I am not. And I demand that you wipe this exact moment from your memory, forever.”

There was a smile in Mitchell’s voice as he spoke. “Impossible, sorry.”

Well, he tried.

A hand smoothed out the wrinkled fabric across his back, and Connor had to keep his chest from seizing at the contact. Gods, Travis was right - he was pathetic.

Eventually Connor had to, you know, breath, and he flipped over in the bunk, staring up at the wood. He could totally live in here forever. Riley had painted a sky of yellow stars and white moon on the underside of Anya’s bunk, and he could make it work. This was totally workable. He already had enough blackmail material on all his siblings to have them bring him all his meals, and Katie would visit him and update him on camp gossip.

Before Connor could continue in his planning, Mitchell spoke up, his voice taking on a surprising sincere tone considering the walking human embarrassment Connor had just proved himself to be.

“Thanks for helping me out so much these last few weeks.” Mitchell’s eyes were soft, his voice light with...amusement? “Although honestly, I have no idea how I didn't see it.” _Me fucking either, dude._ “But...thank you.”

Connor worked up to a smile, hopefully. “Anytime.” He paused, considering. “And I don't enact prank weeks for anyone, just so you know.”

Mitchell laughed at that, and wasn’t that always nice. He didn’t respond, only leaning forward and - _holy shit holy shit -_ pressing his lips in a soft touch to Connor’s forehead.

Connor would welcome the cold embrace of death right about now, because there’s no way his life could get better then how it was at that very moment.

Mitchell pulled away, and he was smiling. “Scoot over.” He bumped his lip against Connor’s shoulder, taking a moment to unlace his shoes and toe them off. “I’m gonna sit with you. And we're gonna talk and get to know each other."

 _Touché_ , life. _Touché._

Looks like his prayers to Aphrodite weren’t ignored after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote all i this in a day what the frick frack rosy WHERE IS THIS PRODUCTIVITY WHEN IT COMES TO RENTAL LOVE HUUUUHH  
> omg thank you thank you THANK YOU for all your kind reviews omg. they make me as flustered as connor stoll in the face of mitchell smiling. or laughing. or breathing. or excising.  
> im going on vacation in twelve hours and i gotta post this beforehand yaaaaas.  
> follow me on tumblr at rosyredlipstick.tumblr.com for 2 am prompts and more conchell <3  
> thank y'all SO MUCH for reading. seriously. it's been a year since i finished this fic and the response has been unbelievable. thank y'all so much.  
> EDIT -  
> [check out this awesome comic from chapter one by hikarishiroki on tumblr!](https://hikarishiroki.tumblr.com/post/162204482028/eyes-reflecting-fire-by-rosyredlipstick-comic)


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